Trenton to Peterborough            

            Much water has passed under the proverbial bridge, over the proverbial dam, and through the locks since my last blog. We entered the Trent-Severn Waterway Thursday morning about nine a.m. The lock opened at 8:30, but we waited until Mistress and Voyager II went ahead. We knew the locks were not really large. Since Mistress is such a large boat (65 feet long) they would only allow one other boat in the lock with her anyway. As it was, we traveled with Li’l David the entire trip to Campbellford and only saw two other boats in the locks heading east as we headed west. There were a few fishing boats here and there, but no cruisers. The fuel prices have cut into the Canadian economy as much as in the U.S., if not more. As we told one lockmaster: “We’ll go until we run out or the money does.” He said boat traffic for this time of year is down about fifty percent.

            We went through twelve locks, including one flighted lock, which is a huge double lock. After lock eleven raised us, we went directly into lock twelve without any transit into the river. The two locks together lifted us about 80 feet. Our boats were raised about 500 feet between Trenton and Peterborough. The Trent-Severn locks are different from those on the Erie. Most of them have doors that are operated manually instead of hydraulically. The lockmaster and his assistant have a big metal turnstile-type thing that winches the doors open and closed. Parks Canada, which operates the waterway system, hires college students as summer helpers on many of the locks. The lockmasters and their student assistants were really friendly and most were talkative. We saw one girl at several locks who is a student at St. Lawrence College in Kingston. She had worked two summers as a lock helper and this year was promoted to the office. She was driving from lock to lock picking up paperwork.

One thing we’ve found interesting about these locks is that they don’t monitor the radios. If the boats ahead of us had cleared the lock, it would be open and waiting for us. If they were still in the lock the lockmaster would wave at us to hold off and we’d know he had someone going through. The lockmasters were good about giving tips on what was ahead, and many of them recommended the same restaurants and sights in Campbellford.

Needless to say we were worn out when we finally pulled into Campbellford and tied up at the wall next to the town park. Twelve locks, one right after the other in many cases, were a lot of work and it was a sunny day, too. For staying one night at the going rate we got a free night so we decided to stay an extra night. We want to be back in the states before we leave for a “holiday” at home for a couple of weeks the first of August, but we figure we still have time to get to the end of the Trent-Severn and cruise at least part of Georgian Bay before heading to Michigan.

We were thrilled when we found that the 30-amp service we need to “electrify” the boat was on the west wall of the canal bisecting the town. We docked right in front of the bathhouse. It was a treat to wash off all the lock wall slime that inevitably splatters on your legs and arms. After cleaning up we hiked to supper at a restaurant recommended by several of the lock watchers we’d talked to along the way. We were disappointed in the fish and chips, but had a good time together anyway. No on had any trouble sleeping that night.

We found that Campbellford is our kind of town. The first morning there we mounted our clown bikes and took off across the bridge and had breakfast at “Fudgie’s.” It was a great deal for the money. We then pedaled over to Dooher’s Bakery, another recommendation from the lockwatchers. Oh my! It was a carbaholic’s heaven. We bought bread, some Danish and currant rolls. When Gary took the bread up to the checkout the lady told him it was a day old, didn’t we want this morning’s fresh loaf? Well, uh, yeah. We’ve found bread is one thing that tends to go bad really fast on the boat, especially the good kind with no preservatives. They sliced the loaf right there, too. We found the next day that it makes fabulous cheese toast when topped with some of the local cheddar.

Our next stop after the bakery was the chocolate factory. The smell alone will give you a chocolate high. Gary munched his way through several samples and selected an assortment. By this time his clown bike was looking like bag lady’s heaven so we pedaled back to the boats and some rest after the exertion of riding on hills that seemed to run up in both directions. And I wallowed in self-pity over my chocolate allergy.

We found people in Campbellford to be very friendly and chatted with many who came to stroll or sit in the park that bordered the docking wall. It provided a great place to tie up close to the center of town. You can tell they are happy to have boaters and the boaters are happy to be in such nice surroundings. There is a huge statue of the Canadian two-dollar coin, affectionately called the “toonie,” in the park. It was designed by a Campbellford native. (Their one-dollar coin is called a “loonie.” It has the queen’s picture on it. I don’t know if that means anything or not.) We had a bird’s eye view of the bridge connecting the two sides of town and sat around in the evening watching the local kids swimming in the river right across from us. Some went so far as to climb onto the bridge railing to dive (using the term loosely) into the river. Most just held their noses and jumped, but a few actually dove in. Several were using Mistress’ swim platform. She was docked on the wall across the river from us.

You know I couldn’t ride a clown bike long without becoming a clown. I decided to try to find a needlework shop to get some twill tape and was told there was one on the other side of the bridge. I walked the bike to the top of the bridge, then hopped on and began coasting down the other side. I lightly touched the hand brakes and the things grabbed the wheel. Over the handlebars I went. (Sorry, no pictures) Due to God’s grace I was able to grab the bridge railing and avoided rolling into the traffic. Only my dignity (what little I have left) was seriously hurt, but Gary says I look like I was in a knife fight on the losing side and Lorenzo has dubbed me “Evel Knievel.” He and Lois bought me a bike helmet the next day. At least I lived to ride another day.

We left early Sunday morning on our merry way to Hastings. We only went through six locks, one of them a double flight that lifted us over 100 feet. We are getting into the mountains now and have been told we are about to see some of the most beautiful scenery there is. Canada Day, the Canadian birthday celebration is Tuesday so this is a holiday weekend. We have been surprised at how little boat traffic we’ve seen. According to some people we’ve talked to the holiday sport along the locks is watching people in rented houseboats try to navigate the locks. We saw one of these, boldly marked “RENTAL,” on our way up, and the boats behind us told us that the lockmaster held them outside until the houseboat went through alone. He wouldn’t risk putting another boat in the lock with it.

So far we have been very lucky. We have gotten to the point that we seldom tie on any more, but just catch the cable with a boat hook and keep the hook in place as the boat rises or goes down in the lock. It’s a lot quicker getting in and out of the lock that way.

We arrived in Hastings early in the afternoon and docked with two other boats we already “knew,” Adventure from Indianapolis and Lady Grace from Punta Gorda. Laurie and Don from Lady Grace went to dinner with us, Lois and Lorenzo at a fish and chips place. Fantastic food! And the walk back to the boats was a good way to pack it down.

Monday morning we ran up to Peterborough where we plan to stay for a couple of days, including the Canadian holiday. We passed through some beautiful country and the one lock we had to transit is the last remaining of the original limestone locks, built in the 1800’s. The walls are very clean compared to the cement locks, probably due to the fact that the algae doesn’t cling to it and give other things a “foothold” too. The lockmaster told us we were getting ready to go into some of the most scenic areas of our trip and he might see us again in a couple of years because many people who come here once return again and again.

We docked in Peterborough safely, despite a rather strong current and some wind. The marina started filling up rapidly right after we got there. There is a nice bathhouse, laundry and park just steps from the boat and the funnel cake wagon, popcorn and hot dog stands are starting to set up. There is supposed to be a jazz band in the park tonight and all sorts of festivities tomorrow, including fireworks, for which we have a ringside seat. I’ll tell all about it in the next post.

From Alexandria Bay to Trenton, Ontario

            We had a beautiful day for our run from Alexandria Bay to Kingston. We arrived in the early afternoon and cleared customs with a simple phone call. Gary just walked down the docks to the entrance to the town marina (Flora MacDonald Confederation Basin Marina) and at a kiosk placed a toll free telephone call, answered a few questions as to how many people were aboard the boat, whether we were carrying firearms or not, and if we had over $10,000 in currency (don’t we wish!). He was given our entry number and that was that. Of course, we were already in the computer database. When Gary gave Gilraker’s registry number the guy quoted our Tabor City address back to him.

            Kingston is the original capital of Canada and has a very interesting history. We took a trolley ride around the town and had many of the sights pointed out to us. We drove through the grounds of the Canadian equivalent of West Point, several places where the first governor of Canada lived, and some interesting fortification towers, built in case of American attacks during the War of 1812. They were copied from a French design, but due to the severity of the Canadian winters had to have roofs installed to keep out the snow, unlike their French counterparts. The panels were so big it took 24 hours to dismantle them and make the towers useable. Fortunately, we never attacked and the towers are just another interesting piece of history.

             It is just late spring here now and the flowers are beautiful. The park that edged the marina was full of geraniums and other colorful bedding plants. On our drive through town we saw bed after bed of peonies of every color. Kingston is home to Queens University and we drove through that campus also. Limestone is the building material of choice as it is everywhere. Our guide told us that many of the buildings were built of limestone quarried on the spot. The town hall is beautiful and is situated within sight of the marina. Behind the town hall is a large plaza where a farmers market takes place on Saturdays and an antique market on Sunday. We bought some fresh veggies for ourselves and a bag of sugar snap peas for Maggie.

            Our favorite eatery turned out to be an Irish pub “The Pilot House.” It is home to some of the best fish and chips we’ve ever had. We ate there twice. Canadians like breakfast as much as we do too. We had several fine ones at Peters Place right around the corner from the marina. I bought a red hooded sweatshirt with “Canada” in large white letters across the front. When I asked the salesgirl if it made me look Canadian she said I looked Canadian but that my accent gave me away. Well, I tried.

            We love Canada. The days have been cool to warm, but not really hot and the nights cool enough for blankets. The people are very friendly and helpful. Prices are pretty high compared to home, and they don’t spell color, favorite and other words right, but I guess we can excuse that. They are a foreign country, after all, eh? And I will be forever grateful to the Canadians who sneaked our hostages out of Teheran along with their own embassy staff back in the 80’s.

            We had planned to leave Kingston Monday morning, but Bill had a medical scare. He had dizziness, shoulder pain and nausea, all heart attack symptoms, so Mary Anne called EMS. After spending the day at the hospital he was diagnosed with labyrinthitis (inner ear infection) and was cleared to leave the next day. We doggie-sat Kilby, took him for walks, said a couple of prayers and cheered when Bill and Mary Anne returned in time for supper.

            We all pulled out of the marina early Tuesday morning and arrived in Trenton in the early afternoon. There are a couple of duck families that are probably still paddling around looking for Gary to feed them crackers and tortilla chips.

Trenton is a nice town with a Wal-Mart and other amenities so necessary to boaters. There is a bridge with “Gateway to the Trent-Severn Waterway” painted on the side of the span. There is a beautiful park next to the marina, and a brick walkway along the waterfront lined with restaurants.

            We traveled through some beautiful countryside on our way to Trenton from Kingston. We had five boats in our “train” with Gilraker in the lead this time. Because of Bill’s dizziness the captains thought he wouldn’t need the stress of leading the five boats we ended up traveling with: Gilraker, Our Turn, Li’l David, Mistress, and a Canadian boat, Miami V all chugging along in a line. We caught up with two more of our former marina-mates, Harmony and Voyager II, who had left Kingston before us.

            We had dinner with Bill and Mary Anne, Lois and Lorenzo and Steve and Ruth from Mistress. After dinner we all boarded Mistress, a beautiful 65-footer. The captains all adjourned to the fly bridge to lower the radar arch so that Mistress can clear the bridges we will be passing under as we transit the Trent-Severn Waterway. Mistress had to unload her auxiliary fuel tanks in order to lift her enough in the water to ensure that she can meet the depth requirements we’ll be encountering in the Trent-Severn.

            We plan to spend one more day in Trenton before heading on up toward Georgian Bay. We will hole up somewhere over the long Canadian holiday weekend coming up on July 1. It’s Canada Day and from what we hear, the water will be alive with boats. Bill, Gary and Lorenzo are hoping to find a good fishing spot to while away the time in.

            We’re having a grand time.

Brewerton to the Thousand Islands

  We had not originally planned to go into the Thousand Islands, but Mary Anne had grown up there and convinced us (without any real effort) that it would be a worthwhile trip. Besides, she had an old friend from nursing school planning to visit her and Bill on the boat while they were there. We’re nothing if not flexible, and being RETIRED, have no set schedule,  so we happily agreed to the detour.

            We left Winter Harbor (not Winter Haven as erroneously noted in the last entry) fairly early in the morning, heading west on the Erie Canal System. We had a great time in Brewerton, got caught up on laundry, got little (and a couple of big) jobs done on the boats, ate, laughed and generally had a great time. We saw several boats we had seen at other places and renewed acquaintance with them. There was a boat tied up across from us named Mistress. I told the owner’s wife I thought it was a particularly appropriate name for a boat. She laughed and agreed with me.

            It was drizzling when we left Winter Harbor, but not to worry. I had come prepared for locking through in my chic yellow wet suit. Talk about the 500-pound canary! Lois, Mary Anne and I have all decided that locking down in the rain is much better than locking up in the hot sun. We went through eight locks in one day that Saturday. We delayed our departure by about 30 minutes because the captains had heard on the radio that there was a big barge going through that took up the whole lock. Sure enough, a few minutes after hearing the radio report we saw it pass. It was probably the longest barge we’ve seen anywhere, loaded with something wrapped in opaque shrink wrap.

            We took off like a row of ducks with Our Turn taking the lead, then Li’l David, and last, the runt of the flock, Gilraker. We didn’t even try to get up any speed, knowing that the barge would need plenty of time to get ahead and we’d just have to wait at the lock for it to get through anyway. We are continually awestruck by the beautiful scenery ever since we were in the Hudson, which seems an age ago now. After we went through the two Erie locks, we swung into the Oswego system. We are also in awe of the guys who built these canals and of the boaters who used to have to unload their cargo, portage everything around falls or rapids, then do it all again at the next place before the canals were built.

            There were the usual groups of lock watchers along the way, even standing in the rain watching all us idiots pull in, hang on, and drop down 20 or 40 feet. Lorenzo said at the end of the last lock that we had raised our boats over 500 feet, then dropped them back down over 200. We had some comments on Gary’s ingenious “lock loop” that let me sit on the bow, yet hold the boat at the center. He told them it was a North Carolina Lock Rig. As far as I know, there are no locks in North Carolina. I know there aren’t in our part of the state.

            Several times we had to tie up briefly at a wall outside a lock and wait for the lock to open on our side. First, there was the barge, and occasionally we had to wait for an eastbound boat to exit the lock. There were a couple of times we were one of seven boats in the lock at one time. Got to be tight quarters, but by now we were old hands at it.

            We had a real scare at one of these tie-ups. Mary Anne had jumped off to secure a line around a bollard and Kilby decided to follow her. He had on his doggie life jacket, so didn’t sink, but he paddled all the strength out of his little doggie legs. All we could see from our vantage point was Bill lying on his stomach trying to push Our Turn away from the wall. He was positioned so that it was impossible to get a boat hook around Kilby’s life vest. Lorenzo finally hooked and pulled him out, but nearly lost his pants in the operation. Kilby was o.k., but a little miffed that he had to have a bath. Sorry, no pictures!

            After I got my shorts thoroughly wet sitting on the bow I decided to put on the fetching yellow rain pants with matching jacket. Over this goes a life preserver and rubber gloves. After getting all this on, of course, as soon as we pulled into the lock the rain stopped. And so we wended our westward way to Oswego. No pictures of this, either. Be glad.

            Oswego is on the western edge of New York, where the Oswego River empties into Lake Ontario. We pulled into a marina which had the most goose poop any of us had ever seen. Lorenzo had to hose the dock off before Lois would set foot on it. Gary and I didn’t have quite so much because we were in a slip in a different part of the marina, but we still had to be careful where we stepped. You just never know what challenges you will come across doing the Loop. What an adventure!

            We have agreed that travel days are restaurant days. This is because the cooks do all the hard part of transiting the locks. All the captains have to do is drive the boat in and hook onto the back rope after the bow person risks life and limb grabbing the thing with a boat hook and holding several thousand pounds of boat steady till the captain can get the motor killed and grab the rope or maybe just hook onto a cable.

            We weren’t quite as tired at Oswego as we had been the day we did seven locks in the hot sun, but Mary Anne called a cab so we could go out to eat. The answering machine said the cabbie didn’t work weekends. Must be independently wealthy. She called another. This guy showed up in a van that held all six of us, told us the restaurant the marina people recommended wasn’t all that hot, and took us to Bridie’s Manor. Wow! When we got out of the cab he told us we could pay him the whole $12.00 fee when he picked us up to take us back. We were stunned! Then we had a wonderful dinner at Bridie’s. It is an old mill with stone walls that are several feet thick at the base, tapering up to two feet at the top. A really neat experience! If you’re ever in Oswego, don’t miss it. On the return trip the cabbie took us by the maritime museum and showed us an Army boat that was in the D-Day invasion and is part of the exhibits there.

            After carefully picking our way across the docks, we turned in, wondering what the next day held in store. What it held was a cruise across Lake Ontario and down the St. Lawrence River to the Thousand Islands. We had a perfect day for boating, leaving very early in the morning to avoid the predicted high winds later in the day. We thought the Hudson was beautiful, but the St. Lawrence is just as beautiful in its own way. With Canada on one side and New York on the other, we passed woodland wilderness, farms, and rows of cottages and mansions.

            Early in the afternoon we followed Our Turn into a tricky little inlet and tied up at the Wellsley Island Yacht Club. Our slip is right next to a wooded area where several families of geese come to eat grass every day, a muskrat swims around and there are little panfish swimming around just waiting to be caught and thrown back.

            The town of Alexandria Bay is just across the St. Lawrence, about a mile in a dinghy, but 60 miles if you have to drive it. We have taken the dinghy, essentially a big inner tube with a bottom across it, to do laundry and go to the grocery store. There are docks everywhere in town, inviting boaters to come on in. A guy who has a permanent slip in the marina has offered to pick things up for us at the store as he passes our dock in his dinghy. The people here are wonderful! So far we’ve managed to get around in the dinghy without any mishaps except getting caught in a rainstorm on the way back from the grocery store. It was COLD rain, too. The temperature here has been in the 70’s in the daytime and 50’s at night. Very pleasant after the heat wave we went through just a week or so ago.

            Last night our whole group hopped aboard Gilraker and chugged across the river to eat dinner at a steakhouse held in fond memory by Mary Anne. It was not a disappointment! Cavallario’s has wonderful steaks and REAL key lime pie. The menu even noted that it was “not green.” On the way back we took a short run down the river. One thing we’ve noticed is how late it gets really dark here. The days are longer than at home, but since the sun’s angle is not as high it’s not as hot. We were glad we’d brought warm clothes.

            If you’d like to see more of the sights we’ve seen, check out www.boldtcastle.com. It’s the mansion built by the man who owned the Waldorf Astoria and includes its own power house, and yacht house. It’s the actual home of Thousand Island salad dressing—at least it’s nearby. The Boldts never actually lived in the castle because Mrs. Boldt died before it was finished. I have included a couple of pictures taken in the evening when we dinghied over to get a look at it from the water. We’re hoping to tour it later today.

            Tomorrow, June 20, the two-month anniversary of our leaving Holden Beach, we continue our Looping, leaving for Kingston, Ontario, where we will clear Canadian customs and spend a day or two before leaving for Trenton and Georgian Bay. And more locks ahead on the Trent-Severn system.

Lock 8 to Brewerton, New York

            We have met global warming and conquered it! You might know that we would get to the beautiful cool mountains of western New York and they would have record high temperatures. It goes along with our having used up half our storage space carrying warm clothes for the cool summer weather up here. Several “lock watchers” accused us of bringing the heat with us when we asked them how come it was so unseasonably hot. Lock watchers are what I call the folks who are present at almost every lock we transit. We pull into the lock at the bottom, anxious to see what we will encounter at the top. Standing there, or sitting on the park benches that are often set along the walkways at the top edges of the lock, are people who come to watch the boats pass through and chat with the rope holders.

            It’s always fun to exchange comments with these friendly idlers. I cracked one woman up when I told her she had the privilege of watching the fat lady hang on the rope, and that I probably should have let Gary run off with the “younger woman.” Another man was tickled to death to meet some North Carolinians; he was a Salisbury native. One lady we met was originally from Germany and she and her daughter were lock watching while her son-in-law and granddaughter fished. She was looking for transportation to Kannapolis, where she has relatives she hasn’t seen in awhile. I told her it would be another ten months or so before we’d be back in the Old North State, or we’d tell her to hop aboard. Her daughter got caught up in trying to explain to her why it would take us ten months to get there. She wished us good health and blessings on the rest of our journey.

            We needed them. Not only was there record heat, there was a LOT of water in the mountains. When it rains in the mountains, it not only comes down from the sky, it comes down from the mountain. The rivers were so high that the dams were opening extra flood gates and the water was full of debris—some of it large logs. We had just pulled through Lock 9 when the lockmaster told us via radio that the canal system had been closed all the way to Lock 16 and we would have to tie up on the wall that extended several hundred feet from the lock doors. This meant a night with no hookups to power and water. That wasn’t a big problem as both Li’l David and Gilraker have extra battery backups and generators. We always fill our water tanks before we leave a hookup, so that wasn’t a problem, either.

            There wasn’t much other than beautiful scenery on the side we were tied up on. We saw two families of geese with their goslings eating grass in the swampy field right next to the boats, but the lockmaster told us of a convenience store in one direction and a good Italian restaurant in the other, both within walking distance. The convenience store had hand-dipped ice cream so we four had a little treat for lunch. That evening we hiked over the dam in the other direction to eat dinner. Gary and Lorenzo had a terrific prime rib, I had pork chops and Lois tried the stuffed shells. The sides of spaghetti had a to-die-for marinara that reminded Gary of his days living above Bruno’s Italian Restaurant in Quakertown, PA. We got back to the boats just at dusk, full as ticks and turned on the A/C.

            Next morning the river had calmed down and the locks were open again, so we stowed the generator, untied the lines and took off again. We have been chugging along at a very slow rate, about seven knots (that’s nautical miles per hour—a tad faster than regular miles per hour). The captains did test runs, conferred and came up with this number as a way to conserve fuel and still make progress on our way to Oswego and Lake Ontario. It’s like a VERY S-L-O-W drive in the mountains as we follow the Mohawk River higher and higher. I told Lois that if I didn’t know it had just evolved by random chance I’d have sworn all this beautiful scenery had been designed especially for our enjoyment. A couple of times we saw deer swimming across the river and I saw two great blue herons. The cottonwoods are shedding their seeds and there is a white dandelion-like fluff blowing everywhere and floating on the water. The seven-knot speed creates enough of a breeze to keep us comfortable as we slowly move up into the mountains.

            All this beauty was offset somewhat by upset stomachs for L&L and Gary, who had all eaten the prime rib the night before. Lois had found her shells and cheese not to her liking, so had eaten half of Lorenzo’s steak. Gary only ate half of his piece and we’d brought the other half back to the boat to make into sandwiches for lunch. Gary wasn’t hungry at lunch time, so I cut it in half, made a nice sandwich and enjoyed it immensely. We didn’t know at the time that L&L were sick. I was giving Gary hygiene lectures about not washing his hands thoroughly after handling the nasty lock ropes. I ALWAYS put my gloves on before touching them.

            I was the butt of a lot of jokes when we got together again and they all said I’d get sick too, just twelve hours later than they did. Didn’t happen. You don’t get to my weight without having an iron stomach. Lois, when she found that I never had a yucky moment, commented that it was no wonder. “She’s like Mikey! She’ll eat anything!” Guilty as charged—but with no stomach upset. Better watch your step. No one needs to get uppity with the one who’s handing out the Immodium.

            After transiting several more locks we tied up for the night at a marina at St. Johnsville, west of Lock 16. Some of the locks are only a mile or so apart. Others are spaced so that we might cruise for over an hour between them. At St. Johnsville we tied up on a wall because the slips on the floating docks did not have power. This meant we had to climb on top of the cabin on the bow and give a little jump onto the dock wall. Not a beautiful thing to watch a fat lady do. But I did it. Here we were able to catch up on the laundry and do other tasks that we’d been putting off.

            The marina here, which included an RV park, was very quiet and beautiful. The morning after our arrival we woke up to a river level two feet lower than when we’d gone to bed. It’s one thing to jump about ten inches onto a dock, but quite another to hoist a load up over two feet. Not to worry. The king of the bungee cords borrowed a step ladder from the marina manager, hooked it to the boat with a bungee cord and laid the top on the dock wall. It turned out to be lucky he put on the bungee cord. The boat swung out from the wall at one point and we’d have lost the ladder in the drink if it hadn’t been secured.

            The next morning was Sunday and we looked for a church within walking distance, but couldn’t find one, although there were several villages nearby. It was about six miles to the next nearest one, so we opted not to try to hike it. Gary did ask the marina manager about a diner where we could get breakfast. Bernie called and found the one he had in mind was closed so he checked another, then loaned us his personal car to get there. (By this time it was too late to get to church.) So we climbed into his vintage Lincoln with Lorenzo navigating via Bernie’s map, Gary driving and Lois and I oohing and aahing over the gorgeous peonies and roses that graced nearly every yard we passed. I was downright envious of the hostas and  the fuschias hanging in the porches also.

            We had a great brunch at the restaurant Bernie, a Korean War vet who had served with the 101^sst Airborne, had guided us to. The food was great, the people very friendly, and we left on a happy note. We stopped at the local hardware store and bought our own ladder, deciding that we would probably run into the problem of high docks and low boats again. Gilraker looks like the boat that the Beverly Hillbillies would have used if they had gone to LA by water instead of in their truck. We spent the rest of our Sunday resting up and marveling that we’ve been on the water for seven full weeks now.

            Early Monday morning we pulled out of St. Johnsville, on our way to Sylvan Beach near the point where the canal empties into Oneida Lake. It was a VERY hot day, in the  90’s and we went through seven locks. Several times we had to wait in line to get into the lock, but the chief rope-grabber had to be on deck and ready to hook onto the rope.

We met one couple who are on a shorter boat than ours. Theirs is about 28 feet long, has less “inside” room than ours, no water, no cooking facilities, and is powered by an outboard motor. I thought I was the craziest woman in the world, but have met my match. I concede. 

            Shortly after leaving the marina at St. Johnsville we passed through Lock 16 and stayed in a canal for most of the rest of the day. We went back and forth between the  canal that roughly parallels the river in places. We were passing through that part of New York State known as the Central Leatherstocking region. It is very historic and is famous as the setting for the book and movie Drums Along the Mohawk. At Lock 17 the east gate of the lock slides up rather than opening out as all the other lock gates do. It has the highest lift of any in the New York State Canal system, and in fact, one of the highest in the world.

A little aside here: Someone had mentioned to me that he thought you just “drove” into the lock, then “drove” out, not realizing that you needed a stabilizer of some sort on the lock wall. Oh, that it could be so simple! When the water is filling the lock it makes a lot of turbulence; same for the water going out. There is more turbulence from the boats themselves as they enter and leave. Some have two props, others have one, but in a confined space a little turbulence can stir up big trouble. This varies from lock to lock, as the length of the lock makes a difference also. As I was pondering how this applied to the Christian life, it struck me that this could be analogous to keeping our hearts and minds focused on God’s Word. When we don’t have that stabilizing “rope” we tend to get “tossed about with every wind of doctrine.” The Christian path is a narrow one in many ways and if we aren’t careful we can get dashed along the hard walls of legalism so we need the fenders of love and humility to cushion the impact. Those same fenders can keep us from crashing into our fellow boaters, but the main stabilizer is hanging onto those ropes that dangle down from the top. They are there for us all the time, but just as we would wobble and weave all over the lock without holding tight to the ropes, we have to avail ourselves of the Word to put it to use in our lives. So endeth the lesson.

When we finally reached Sylvan Beach we calculated that I had spent at least two and a half hours in the sun. By the time we reached the marina at Sylvan Beach I was a whipped dog. We were tied up along a dock right in front of a beautiful RV park. Many of the campers had beautiful potted plants around their lots and everything was immaculate. It was a pleasant place to spend the late afternoon. We had cheese and crackers and turned in early because the captains wanted to run down Oneida Lake in the early morning. Thunderstorms were forecast for the afternoon and we didn’t want to be out on an open lake in bad weather. The lake is only four miles wide, but twenty miles long and can get really nasty at times. The captains had allowed four hours for the run up the lake, but it took only two and a half. And so we came to Brewerton and Winter Haven Marina.

One other note on the locks: The last two we came through were “down” locks. We had reached the pinnacle where the canal flows east, and at Lock 22 instead of entering at the bottom of the lock and floating up, we entered at the top and floated down. That turned out, for some reason, to be an easier operation than holding the boat against the lock wall as we floated up. Soon we will be entering the Trent-Severn lock system, which I understand will require a different technique, snaring an upright with a loop of rope and securing a loop to the boat fore and aft. We already have long pieces of plastic hose to make the loops stand open so that the lassoing will be easier.

But I digress. We hooked back up with Mary Anne and Bill at Brewerton. Their boat had been pulled from the water and the bottom repaired and repainted. Our Turn looks practically new again. Winter Haven Marina is a wonderful place. It has two courtesy cars—one a vintage Mercedes with no A/C. You can use them freely for up to an hour at a time within a range of seven miles, which puts us in reach of most needed amenities such as Wal-Mart, the Laundromat, and West Marine

As is so often the case, the first day was spent mostly doing laundry. It doesn’t sound rigorous, but in the heat, a laundromat can resemble a sauna or steam bath. Finally, all the towels are clean again and we don’t have to buy new underwear, at least for awhile. There were violent thunderstorms in the area on Tuesday afternoon after we arrived, attesting to the captains’ wisdom in getting across the lake early, but we were in a little “notch” in the bad weather between two severe-looking formations, so all we got was a little lightning and a lot of rain. By late Wednesday a “cool” front came through and since then the normal weather pattern for this area has arrived. Warm days with cooler nights.

Since Our Turn and Li’l David both had to have oil changes and everyone was worn out from that (except Gary and I who are just generally worn out, being about ten years older than everyone else in the group), we went out to dinner at DG’s, a fine Italian place a short drive from the marina.

We are spending several days in Winter Haven because the weather is due to change soon and this is a nice place to stay. We’ve been eating well as usual: Lois’s fried chicken, biscuits and pinto beans one night, Gary’s grilled steaks and potatoes another, and tonight will be Mary Anne’s sausage lasagna.

We’ve seen several of our fellow Loopers at this marina that we had seen in Oriental, NC, and various other places. We also saw boats that had been damaged by the debris in the water come in for repairs, as there is a repair facility here.

Gary and Bill tossed out some jigs last night and found the smallmouth bass and other panfish here love them just as much as those in NC. We are right next to a marsh full of cattails that swarms with red-winged blackbirds.

Within the next day or so we’ll be on our merry way to Oswego. Thanks again for all the prayers. We feel the weather notch was a good example of answered prayer. Happy Father’s Day to any dads who might happen to be reading this. 

Waterford to Lock 8

            We left fairly early Thursday morning continuing our westward voyage. We passed through seven locks on the Erie Canal system. This was a new adventure. The only two locks we’d done previously were the lock at Great Bridge, VA, and the federal lock that we had passed through just before Waterford. For a nearly a week we had watched the M.V. Pride of Erie carry school children through the lock and back out and around. Now it was our turn.

            Gary had rigged a loop of rope with a piece of plastic hose around it on the center cleat on each side of Gilraker’s beam for me to pass the line through. I hadn’t had this at the federal lock and it was difficult to hold the boat steady against the sidewall of the lock. Now all I had to do was pass the end of the line around the pipe or cable in the side of the lock, then pull it through the loop and I could have a secure seat on the bow, pull the line tight or give it slack, and up we’d go as the water rose.

            There were two locks that had no cables or pipe to hook onto. They had greasy, slimy ropes hanging from the top of the lock with a small float at the top and a weight at the bottom. I had to snag the nasty thing with a boat hook and hang on. After I snagged the bow rope Gary cut the engine and grabbed the one nearest the stern. Then we held on and reached hand over hand as the water filled the lock and Gilraker floated up. In addition, at lock six we had to periodically push off from the wall to keep the ball-shaped fenders from getting lodged in the gaping holes in the lock wall.

            We passed through some beautiful scenery between the locks. River travel is really serene compared to ocean and bay crossings. For one thing the water doesn’t corrode everything it touches, so the boat doesn’t need washing down every time we get to a hose hookup. For another, since we’re not out in really open water, we don’t have pounding from waves if there’s a storm—at least not in the canals.

            Between locks we were in portions of the Mohawk River. You will have to see the pictures to see how beautiful it is. We tied up at a wall just west of lock 8 for the night. Last night Lois cooked smothered shrimp with rice, steamed veggies, rolls, salad and the crowning touch, her special banana pudding made with strawberries instead of “nanners.” We ate too much—again.

            Lois and Lorenzo returned from North Carolina on Monday evening. We were waiting for them on Our Turn’s back deck with Mary Anne and Bill. It was like a family reunion having them back. On Tuesday they took the car they’d rented for a week and left for Rhode Island to get their satellite receiver repaired at the factory—a four-hour drive one way. But they returned victorious and were welcomed heartily again.

            Bill and Mary Anne had decided to leave on Wednesday because they were tired of the constant jack hammering that was going on at the visitor center in Waterford and their dog, Kilby was having nervous fits over all the dogs being walked along the walkway along the dock face. They took off with plans for us to meet up later and we stayed and went to Saratoga Springs for a day of sightseeing and shopping.

            Lorenzo had been stationed in Saratoga Springs during his navy days and we drove around to give Lois a look at his old stomping grounds, but didn’t stay long enough to run into any of his old girlfriends. Besides, they have one of the largest, most well-laid out Dollar Tree stores in the country. Lois and I know because we’ve been in most of the ones on the east coast. We both increased our supply of plastic wares (after carefully considering if we had room for it) and a few other odds and ends.

            Then it was off to Wal-Mart for another round, this time including groceries. Gary and I got memory foam mattress pads for our berths, which greatly improved our sleeping situation. The foam in the old pads was wearing down fast and had lost its ability to snap back. (You needn’t snicker!)

            It was my turn to cook tonight. The menu was bubble ‘n’ squeak with corn bread and more of Lois’s banana pudding. Eat your heart out, banana pudding fans! You’ve never tasted any like hers. It’s made with sweetened condensed milk and cream cheese. No pansy fat-free, low-cal stuff for us real sailors! Someone told me you lose weight doing the Loop just from the extra activity, but it hasn’t worked for me. I’ve decided there’s a tipping point and I’ve passed it.

            The bubble ‘n’ squeak, for you not familiar with it, consists of boiled potatoes, cabbage and carrots cooked with fresh sausage to season the whole pot. Mine didn’t turn out too well as the largest pot I had didn’t have room for the whole mess and the cabbage was a little underdone—so we had sort of coleslaw/squeak. But Lois and Lorenzo graciously said it was good. Gary didn’t comment directly, but left a big pile of cabbage on his plate and said something about it being almost raw. You just can’t please some people. Captains, especially, tend to get uppity if you let them.

After dinner Lois and I took a walk along the bike trail that runs between the canal and I-90. Most of the time the highway was hidden by trees, but we could see the canal. It was a beautiful time to walk, just before the sun set, and hopefully burned off a few calories. The sight of our two boats tied up on the wall at lock 8 looked like home to us. Lois had commented on the fact that when they returned from North Carolina to the boat, she felt like, despite the fact that they were in New York, she was home. We agreed as we walked back down the hill to the boats that we’re just a little bit crazy.

            A note on locks for those of you who aren’t familiar with them: locks have huge gates at both ends. They are used to raise and lower boats to the level of the water course they are traveling in. Since we are going “up,” the lockmaster first lets the water empty downstream, then opens the downstream doors and we pull into the lock, where we hook to the side using one of the methods described above. When all the boats in a group are in, or the lock is full, the lockmaster closes the downstream doors and fills the lock. The boats hooked to the sides rise as the water comes up and when they reach the level of the upstream water the doors on the upstream side are opened and the boats sail on up. We have been in locks that raised or lowered us only a foot or two and others that raised or lowered us forty feet or more.

I’d like to pass on a thank you to all those who are praying for us, especially our friends at Bethany Bible Chapel in Conway. It means a lot. We think of you and pray for you often and wish every one of you could be here with us enjoying the beautiful scenery and fellowship.  

May 28, 2008

Waterford, New York

            This place is so nice you’d almost think it was in the South. You realize it isn’t when people politely ask you to repeat something, then ask where you’re from. We are at a town dock in a town that loves boaters. We have come through the first lock in the Erie Canal system. We didn’t have any real trouble, but I did let the rail on the boat bang the side wall of the lock a couple of times. I didn’t have the fender high enough up  on the rub rail, either. Whatever.The boat rose in the lock as the water came up and we went on our merry way.

            Here in Waterford we’re only a few steps from the showers. And maybe a hundred feet from the next lock that we’ll go through. There is a state park here and there is a portion of the old lock. The town is delightful. It is the oldest continuously incorporated village in the United States. It is full of old Victorian houses, as well as some dating further back than that, and the shopping/restaurant district is just a short walk from the docks.

We had a great breakfast our first morning at one place and that evening we walked with Mary Anne and Bill to an Irish pub and had fish and chips. Fantastic! The waitress followed us out and asked where we were from. After we told her, and I jokingly asked how in the world she could tell we weren’t local, she said she’d lived in Savannah at one time. We found on another visit that their Italian food is as great as the Irish fish and chips, too.

People walk, jog and bicycle up and down the docks all the time and are very friendly. We also met some other Loopers this morning. They have done the Loop in the past and are now doing the “Down East” tour over to Nova Scotia.

            Lois and Lorenzo left for home on Thursday. They plan to return early next week. Bill and Mary Anne have rented a car and we are all planning a tour of West Point on Sunday. It’s only an hour’s drive, but it’s been two days since we passed by it on our way up the Hudson.

            It’s still spring up here. Cool (downright cold at times) at night and warmer in the daytime. There are lilacs blooming everywhere when we walk to restaurants. I never knew how good they smelled. Not as heavy as gardenias, but a light, sweet scent. I’ve even seen a few azaleas. They have just passed their full bloom, making spring here about six weeks behind North Carolina. There is a lot of pollen in the air too, and a film of it on the water like we get at home when the pines are scattering it everywhere. It is nice to have some down time, not having to worry about currents and boats speeding around throwing wakes. Maggie has learned to imitate the ducks and geese that paddle around the docks. We’ve heard that the towns on the lock system are like this: laid back, friendly to boaters and each has some interesting sights of its own.

            Mary Anne has had several invitations to have coffee or tea when she goes out to take Kilby for a walk. We have had people stop and let us cross the street where there’s no crosswalk. Any time you walk down the dock, which has an inlaid graphic of the canal system made of bricks, you need to be prepared to stop and spend some time talking with people. Many are doing their spring spruce-ups and planting gardens and on the way to the laundromat I had several people speak as I walked by. One gentleman talked for about 15 minutes telling me about his travels and picture-taking expeditions.

Friday the docks were swarming with school children on a field trip. A tug docked in front of us, Urger, was used as an outdoor classroom to demonstrate how commerce was carried on along the canal. The kids donned life jackets and boarded a tour boat that took them up through the lock, then back down. They enjoyed a picnic on the grounds of the visitor center after their tours.  

            Saturday was a rain day and therefore a day for laundry, boat maintenance and naps. The laundry had been closed for awhile due to smoke damage and had just opened up Saturday morning. I was dropped off by the captains and Mary Anne with my 80 or so pounds of laundry and they went on to do battle with Wal-Mart over some transferred prescriptions. We had gone to the neighboring town on Friday for prescription refills for the Osbornes and Gary and I to an urgent care facility. I hadn’t slept in about three nights due to arm pain, which turned out to be tendonitis.

We never got our naps as I had a lot of housekeeping catch-up and Gary built a shelf in the head to aid in stashing and stowing. He turned on the A/C to take off some of the dampness and found the A/C motor wouldn’t run. Fortunately, on Lorenzo’s advice, he had brought along a spare. I won’t go into gory detail about how he had to climb down into the hold and I had to hand him things. All this after we ransacked the boat looking for his box of fittings. They turned up under his bunk.  We think Maggie must have put them there.

            I won’t even try to describe Mary Anne’s war with Wal-Mart over the prescriptions. It is not a pretty story. Suffice it to say that the “easy transfer” of prescriptions they advertise did not work in her particular case. At least my prescriptions did not have refills to cause problems, and they actually did help my tendonitis.

            Sunday morning bright and early we four climbed into our rented car and set out for West Point, directed by “Clarissa,” the GPS system’s bodyless voice. Mary Anne named it after one of the characters in the move “Steel Magnolias.” Clarissa gets really upset when you don’t follow her directions. You can tell she doesn’t like to “recalculate.” She gets really frantic when you miss a turn and she has to recalculate several times in rapid succession. Bill got her terribly upset when he pulled into McDonald’s for biscuits. She did not like recalculating circling a parking lot.

            The trip to West Point was beautiful. After passing through Albany the drive up to Highland Falls was almost like driving through the Smokies. Just the drive alone would have been a great sightseeing trip, but the tour of West Point was special. For twelve dollars we got a guided tour on an air-conditioned bus. We had passed West Point as we cruised up the river, but now we had a chance to see the buildings close-up and read all the “Sink Navy” and “Beat Air Force” signs that were all over campus. It’s a good thing they’d had graduation on Saturday, I might have had to make someone mad. It is a beautiful campus, though, and the tour of the cemetery was especially interesting. We saw the graves of Custer and several other notable military figures, including that of Mickey Marcus, the only graduate of West Point who is buried there who died fighting in the army of another country. He was hired by the State of Israel in 1948 to head up their newly-formed army and was killed early in the war for Israeli independence, ironically by one of the Israeli sentires. His story was made into the book and movie, Cast a Giant Shadow, starring Kirk Douglas.

            We plan to stay in Waterford for several more days. I doubt anything really exciting will happen, but if it does, I’ll blog it. We will soon be going through Lock number two and so on up the Erie Canal.